


i could live by the light in your eyes

by Lysippe



Series: The Worst Witch 2018 Winter Fluff-A-Thon [13]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, day 13: sledding, even i couldn't figure out a way to make this one angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 17:56:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16979190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lysippe/pseuds/Lysippe
Summary: Hecate had stood there, her shoulders squared, her back ramrod straight. A deep scowl sat upon her lips, and she looked, by Pippa’s reckoning, as angry and disdainful as she had ever seen her. As though the object in front of her was so offensive to her, on such a fundamental level, that she could not even begin to muster up a single scathing word with which to express her displeasure.Honestly, Pippa found it all a little funny.





	i could live by the light in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all, even I couldn't make this one angst. So here's a taste of what it looks like when I just write fluff, and nothing but fluff, I guess?

It had all started innocently enough. The back and forth of owing one another favors, of each of them perpetually having something they had to make up to the other. There was no real reason for it, no purpose or actual sense of debt and repayment -- hardly an element either woman was eager to introduce into their fledgling relationship -- but it had proven a helpful motivator, a rather enjoyable way of inviting new experiences, of making life’s less than pleasant tasks a bit more bearable.

And it had all started with a sled.

Hecate had stood there, her shoulders squared, her back ramrod straight. A deep scowl sat upon her lips, and she looked, by Pippa’s reckoning, as angry and disdainful as she had ever seen her. As though the object in front of her was so offensive to her, on such a fundamental level, that she could not even begin to muster up a single scathing word with which to express her displeasure.

Honestly, Pippa found it all a little funny. 

The affronted look on Hecate’s face only intensified when she noticed Pippa biting the insides of her cheeks to keep the smile tugging at the corners of her lips from forming fully. 

But Pippa, in what she felt was a truly masterful effort at disguising her attempts to keep the laughter bubbling up in her chest down, threw an arm casually around Hecate’s shoulders, gave a friendly, familiar squeeze, and tilted her head up just slightly, enough to whisper in Hecate’s ear. “It’s supposed to be  _ fun _ , dear. Surely you’ve heard of it?”

“Nothing about this appears as though it would be even remotely  _ fun _ .” Hecate ground the last word out, as though it were physically painful for her to say.

Pippa did her utmost to keep herself from rolling her eyes. Hecate, for all her propriety and tradition, could be  _ awfully  _ dramatic when she wanted to be. “I must have succeeded in dragging you out sledding at least once when we were younger?”

Hecate sniffed. “If so, I must have blocked the activity from my memory. Presumably for a good reason. Likely one pertaining to a distinct lack of fun.”

“Oh,  _ honestly _ , Hiccup.” Pippa’s words were gentle, her tone light. It was the same coaxing, friendly voice she had used on so many recalcitrant students over the years, largely with great success. The one that was patient, chiding, but hid an ever-growing frustration. But Hecate in her element could be more grumbly, more needlessly stubborn than any child, and the ever-deepening frown on her face, the way Pippa felt her shift her feet to plant them just a bit more firmly on the snow-coated ground, served as ample proof. “Won’t you give it a chance, please? For me?”

It was a low blow, perhaps. A desperate, only slightly manipulative last-ditch effort. Pippa knew that once she had asked for something as a  _ personal favor _ , the chances of Hecate denying her were almost nonexistent, no matter how absurd the request. Knew it in the way she knew that Hecate had but to call and she would come running, just the same. And truly, it was something Pippa tried not to take advantage of, not in any meaningful way. 

But it was  _ sledding _ , for goodness sake, and Hecate was being ridiculous.

Hecate, feet still planted, shoulders still squared, huffed loudly. “I suppose,” she said, “that I may be able to be convinced to give it a try.  _ Once _ ,” she added quickly, as Pippa’s eyes lit up with poorly-concealed glee.

Pippa snorted with a most undignified sort of laughter, brushed warm lips against the cold skin of Hecate’s cheek, and took one mittened hand in her own. With great mirth, she said, “Of course, dear. I would  _ never  _ try to get you to try something more than once. That would be too cruel a fate.”

“I would be just as happy to not give it a try at all.”

“Oh, I know you would,” Pippa said brightly. “But I promise, if you will go sledding with me  _ just one time _ , I will make it well worth your while if you hate it.”

Hecate’s cheeks, already pink from wind and cold, turned a rather lovely shade of crimson. She peered down at Pippa cautiously, eyes narrowed slightly. “I am  _ in no way _ implying that this is likely to happen,” she said, “but pray tell, what is my reward if I do  _ not  _ hate it?”

“The joy of having found a new hobby?” Pippa suggested teasingly, eyes wide with feigned innocence.

“That,” Hecate said imperiously, “sounds like an absolutely dreadful deal.”

“For all parties involved,” Pippa agreed with an impish grin. “Very well, then. I shall make it worth your while, in a way of your choosing, whether you hate it or not.” 

“That sounds far more agreeable.” Hecate took one last, rueful look at the sled, before turning to Pippa and, in a voice that suggested she would rather be doing just about anything else, said, “Shall we, then?”

“We shall,” Pippa said magnanimously. Gloating, she knew, was both premature and liable to get her exactly nowhere. If anything, it would only strengthen Hecate’s predisposition to hate sledding before ever trying it. Instead, she sat down at the back of the old wooden sled, a cherished possession from her childhood years, and gestured Hecate to sit down in front of her. Hecate did, reluctance visible in her every movement, but Pippa felt her relax, just the slightest bit, when she leaned in to her, pressing her chest to Hecate’s back for balance. “I’m going to push us off on the count of three, okay?” she said, resting her chin on Hecate’s shoulder. “And when I do, just hold on.”

“Always comforting instructions,” Hecate said drily, but Pippa could hear the way she had, if nothing else, resigned herself to her fate. 

“Three… two…  _ one _ !”

Pippa pushed with all her might, and the sled glided quickly, effortlessly down the hill, and it felt, for the brief moment it lasted, exactly like flying.

The sled skidded to a stop, hitting a powdery patch of snow that exploded into millions of tiny flakes, coating their jackets, hats, and faces. 

Pippa tugged at Hecate’s shoulder in front of her, forcing her to turn around, so she could get a better idea of quite how displeased she was with their sudden stop. “So,” she said casually, “what did you think?”

To her immense surprise, however, she saw the barest hint of a smile tugging at Hecate’s lips, though she appeared to be doing her mortal best to keep it at bay. “I…” she said contemplatively, drawing the situation out on purpose, Pippa knew, for dramatic effect. “ _ might  _ be able to be convinced to go again.”

It was all Pippa could do to keep from clapping. Instead, she threw her arms around Heate’s shoulders, kissed the ever-pinkening tip of her nose, and said, “ _ Wonderful _ . I knew you would love it.”

“I didn’t say that at all,” Hecate said, but her voice was mild and there was no real fight behind her words.

“You didn’t have to.”

“You, Pippa, have grown quite presumptuous in your old age.” But the warmth in Hecate’s eyes, the fondness of her smile, betrayed her. “Now,” she added, “I believe there is the small matter of a reward which you owe me.”

“I suppose there is,” Pippa agreed. “So pray tell, how will I be making up the trauma of encouraging you to try something new and outside of your comfort zone?” She was being entirely too cheeky for her own good, Pippa knew, but honestly, she couldn’t help the smugness that tinted her words. Hecate may have found it entirely unbecoming, but Pippa felt it was quite justified.

“We,” Hecate said slowly, drawing her lips slowly, tauntingly across Pippa’s cheek, sending the most delightful shivers down her spine, “are going to collect thistles at midnight for calming potions.”

The horror on Pippa’s face must have been apparent, the hushed “Oh,  _ no _ ” that slipped from her lips entirely too audible. Hecate’s laughter, so rare an occurrence, even with Pippa, burst out, loud and genuine and clearly unbidden. And Pippa, praying to any and all goddesses she could think of that Hecate was playing a joke on her, mumbled, “ _ Please _ tell me you aren’t serious.”

“I am very serious, Pippa,” Hecate said after a moment, taking her time in composing herself, standing slowly, gingerly brushing the snow from her long, wool coat. “Thistles picked at midnight in the dead of winter are the most potent, and with exam season coming just around the corner, I have found that having a stock of well-prepared calming potions to be quite useful. But,” she added, seeing Pippa’s look of growing dread and planting an uncharacteristically soft kiss to the top of her hat-covered head, “I shall make it up to you afterward, in a way of your choosing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Join me on Tumblr @ thebestdressedrebelinhistory


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